The man's sudden appearance caught everyone off guard.
As the core obsession of the Fujika Middle School area, Hirano Sousuke's presence in this dungeon had been virtually nonexistent. Before his abrupt emergence, no one had anticipated encountering him here—let alone in this hostile, murderous form radiating terror. None of them were prepared.
Yet even unprepared, one thing was clear to all:
Do not falter. Do not flee.
The core obsession of a Crimson Moon-class dungeon was an entity no player could oppose head-on. But if you ran when faced with it, death was the only possible outcome.
The reason was simple:
If the core obsession manifested before you with hostility, you had already triggered part of its rules. Escape was impossible. The only chance of survival was to advance, to find a loophole in its logic.
Kumami, the quickest to react, lunged.
She positioned herself between Takakai/Miko and the gunman, charging forward. The man ignored him, coldly tilting his pistol toward—
Miko.
So she's the one who triggered the death rule? Tch. That "superhuman perception" of hers is no joke.
The thought flashed through Kumami's mind as the man's finger tightened on the trigger.
Then—
WHAM.
Kumami's palm struck the man's arm, forcibly diverting the gun's aim. Her elbow followed, slamming into the man's chest and sending him crashing onto the stage with a thunderous impact.
BANG!
A gunshot rang out.
A rescue team member materialized beside Miko—only to have his torso obliterated by an unseen bullet before vanishing.
The gun wasn't even aimed at her!
Takakai's pupils contracted.
If he hadn't sacrificed "Old Guo" from the rescue team, that shot would've taken Miko's head off.
"Blocking his aim is useless! The bullet will manifest regardless of where the gun's pointed!"
Takakai shouted the warning as he scrambled up. The near-fatal wound across his back had already healed—thanks to the Rescue Team Badge's regenerative properties. But there was no time to dwell on that.
He sprinted toward Hirano Sousuke.
His target? The gun.
Takakai was certain:
That pistol was Hirano Sousuke. The core obsession artifact of Fujika Middle School. If he could seize it, store it in his watch's space—
Even if the dungeon's core wouldn't vanish, losing its artifact would weaken it. And the players would gain a genuine Crimson Moon-class weapon.
A fine plan—in theory.
In practice?
Before Takakai could close the distance, the man stood up effortlessly, as if gravity didn't apply. With a flick of his arm, he hurled Kumami away—sending him flying dozens of meters into the audience seats, smashing through rows like a cannonball.
Then—
The man turned.
Raised his gun.
BANG.
A second rescue team member collapsed, unable to rise.
Takakai hadn't seen the bullet.
Even with Heddal's Blessing enhancing his vision to superhuman levels, its trajectory was invisible.
If I hadn't summoned another decoy… I'd be dead without knowing how.
A chilling realization:
For the chosen target, dodging is impossible.
Gritting his teeth, Takakai accelerated, trying to exploit the brief pause between shots—
BANG.
A second shot.
But he didn't pull the trigger—?!
A blur of movement.
Maki's voice in the mental link: [Be careful—!]
Then—
Gotou #1 hit the ground, half her torso blown apart.
Less than five seconds had passed since the man appeared.
BANG.
A third shot, almost simultaneous with the second.
The man's finger hadn't moved.
This time, Kumami—blood trickling from his mouth—yanked Takakai aside just in time.
"No hostility! Don't attack or try to take anything! Any hostile intent triggers his retaliation!"
Kumami's voice was strained. Her Blessing must've discerned the pattern.
Takakai focused his own Blessing—and froze.
Hirano Sousuke radiated zero malice.
He wasn't attacking.
He was reacting.
An automatic defense against perceived threats.
The gun rose again, aiming at Takakai and Kumami.
Then—
Lowered.
The man ignored them, ceasing fire.
As long as they abandoned all hostile intent, the core obsession lost interest.
An obsession with a unique personality indeed.
But Miko's situation was different.
After a pause, the gun reoriented—
—toward the dazed, paralyzed girl on the floor.
Shit. At this distance…
Takakai surged forward, Blessings flaring, but already knew:
Too late.
Kumami didn't follow.
Her gaze was locked behind them.
At the figures emerging from the stage's periphery.
Orderlies.
Patients.
The entire hospital's mononoke… had gathered.
With the core obsession already overwhelming them, this was checkmate.
Should I overload the Eyeball?
Kumami braced for the worst.
The man's finger settled on the trigger.
Then—
"I—I'm not Alice!"
Miko's voice, raw with terror, cut through the silence.
The man's hand stopped.
"I'm not Alice! I'm—I'm one of her victims! We all are! Everyone here was hurt by her! Protect us—you're the only one who can, Officer! Please!"
Her scream was desperate, cracking under the weight of mortal fear.
The mononoke closed in—reassembled administrators, doctors, modified patients, even Miko's classmates.
At the forefront: the director, face twisted with rage.
The gun lowered fully.
In that moment, visions flooded their minds.
Scenes from the man's past.
["It's alright. Leave it to me."]
A quiet voice, steady as steel.
["Even if I'm alone, I'll protect you."]
["If she's truly Alice… if she's the one from Fujika Middle School…"]
A faint, bitter smile.
["Then this was always my fate."]
["Sensei… you saved my life back then. Now that you've turned away, I'll act."]
["This life should've ended long ago. So this time—I'll fight for those who can't."]
Before him stood the forgotten victims.
Those who'd lost families, loved ones—only to be further brutalized by a society worshipping Alice.
No matter where they turned, they met hatred, mockery, and violence.
This… shouldn't be.
So the man—
Donned his 20-year-old police uniform.
Took his meticulously maintained pistol.
And walked alone into the neon-lit concert hall.
Into what, for him, was an inevitable solitary march.
BANGBANGBANGBANGBANG—!!
Every orderly.
Every patient.
Every attacking mononoke—
Shattered in an instant, reduced to flying gore.
The man—his tattered uniform stained with decades of grime—holstered his gun.
Without a glance at Takakai or the others, he turned and walked through the stage wall, vanishing.
Only then did Miko gasp, collapsing into Takakai's arms, her body shaking uncontrollably.
"I-Is it… over?"
Her voice was small, disoriented.
Takakai patted her head, offering a thumbs-up.
"For now. You did great."